


We've All Seen The Sunrise

by PinkImpala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cigarettes, Early Mornings, M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:46:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1187484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkImpala/pseuds/PinkImpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>THIS PIECE IS REALLY SHORT AND DOESN'T REALLY GO ANYWHERE I JUST THOUGHT IT WAS CUTE. THERE'S DEAN AND CAS AND CIGARETTES AND A SUNRISE AND IT'S FROM CASTIEL'S POINT OF VIEW AND IT'S A POEM. fin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We've All Seen The Sunrise

We've all seen the sun rise  
at six am, and walked outside  
to air that's too cold  
and a shadow that allows dew on dead grass  
to linger.

We've all pretended  
we were beautiful,  
when orange light   
reflected in our irises,  
and created a perfect shade of tan  
on our skin.

Our hair wasn't brushed,  
and our backs weren't stretched.

We could see our breath  
in those early hours,  
even though the calendar in the kitchen  
promised warmer months.

I've stood on a balcony  
watching the sun rise  
in cliched cities,  
and I've seen white sheets   
cling to the perfect human form,  
even after no one was still there.

We've all seen it.

But I was the one  
who had the privilege  
to let butterflies  
reside in my stomach  
to protect their fragile wings  
from the cold as he stood there.

My semi-alert state,  
unknown to his forearm  
that used the least amount of muscle  
to hold onto the butt of a stale cigarette.

I cringed at my inability  
to control my jealousy  
when he pressed it to his lips  
to welcome an early death.

Next came the cup of coffee  
he never held by the handle,  
but by the rim  
even when yesterday's coffee  
was heated too hot   
causing the chipped ceramic to burn his already  
calloused hands.

I was jealous as chapped lips  
greeted the warmth  
saving his throat  
from another inhale of mortality.

I was jealous.  
Like somehow my own two lips  
could erase the years no one wants to remember,  
but do.


End file.
